


a dish for a dick

by cihuai



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Awkward Build Up, Boys Being Boys, Cum Play, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humiliation, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Sex, Smut, i lied sorta, idk what to tag, kind of, not exactly, virgin chan, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:27:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cihuai/pseuds/cihuai
Summary: there wasn’t any money involved, nor personal belongings or audacious comments – just chan, minho’s mouth, and a stupid promise to have the dishes done by sunrise.





	a dish for a dick

**Author's Note:**

> hi loves, i wrote some awkward smut today. enjoy.

"i have the dishes tonight."

deriding, jesting, so crude. the dark hoodie floats onto him, shielding away his figure and the satiny beginnings of his collarbones. he's swallowed up naively, yet, the words that he's already spewed are far from rightfully moral.

minho stands into the peak of chan's bedroom door, the more minuscule half of his lower body coming into sudden view, outwardly pleased with himself – for a reason unbeknownst to chan, seeing as the faux innocent smile on his face eerily peels the room in two.

chan, fingers dispiritedly prancing around the keys of his laptop, creating blunders of different notes, doesn't bother to give his heed. occupied with another upcoming soundtrack, he keeps his pace administered, persistent with the single earbud shoved into his ear; inconsistent and brisk blares of musical test-outs reverberating straight to his ear drums. it's a messy task, the final outcome of the three second beat making chan purse his lips in distaste.

on the other side of the room, minho's roguish demeanor nearly wavers. he's certainly displeased with the lack of response thrown his way, cautiously slit eyes reading confusion and exasperation, thickset lips pulling back upwards whenever his brain switches on a brighter light.

"hyung," he repeats, sliding away from the door, not before acute fingers push it closed. the lock stays exposed, minho knows he won't be too long – atleast, he hopes so. moves slick and smooth, he slides himself onto the foot of chan's bed, taking notice of the immense difference in the way woojin's bed degrades the messiness of chan's. "i have the dishes tonight."

the silence that continuously overtakes the room is deafening, and maybe minho could feel the redness splashing his ears like liquid, grimacing at the ignorance and disinterest that chan displays towards him. minho is definitely the only one who's bold enough to bother chan during his busy hours – which makes him all the more irritating.

then, chan hums slowly, softly, distractedly. his usual glossy eyes pulled into weariness. he's tired, minho knows. yet, here he sits, too far gone in his suffocating dark hole, nothing but hurried thoughts and overpowering urges for completion and perfected music. minho would never quite understand the level of precision chan's climbed upon.

"what is it, minho?" finally, chan's slow fingers pull the earbud away, polite enough to draw the younger some attention. in a way that's unsuspecting to him, he's a bit grateful that he's been pulled away, even if just for a mere second. he was only one track away from tearing his hair out strand by strand.

small, cat-like eyes bore into his entire being, possibly visiting the unrequited depths of his mind. chan's anything but a liar, so he's confident enough to say he's slightly shaken by the simplicity of minho's stare.

grin widening, the smaller mocks exaggeration. "i'm on dish cleaning duty tonight," he pauses, eyelashes batting for unknown emphasis. "–and, well, i don't want to do it." funny thing is, either way, minho was never going to get around to it in the end. he knows he's a lousy person, but the haughty spirit living within him isn't too heedful when it comes to caring. a handful, he is, he's been told many times over.

dinner had ended just twenty minutes prior, everyone scattering away carelessly as woojin had chosen minho specifically to stay back and clean. minho isn't quite sure on the reason, he's only aware on the possibility that woojin had been too exhausted to listen to felix and jisung bicker on about who'd done it last time, totally ripped of method as he'd ordered minho to clean up. he wanted to argue, complain, maybe even bribe an innocent felix with twenty dollars and a cherry sucker to do it for him, but that was his plan last week. it proved successful, but he didn't want to risk the same procedure again, for felix told chan everything.

he can't exactly condone a snitch.

so, as he sits uninvitedly on chan's bed, his brain doodles down various ways to bribe chan into taking on his own task. maybe chan is one of the worst people to ask, but minho is very well conscious of the soft spot chan holds for him. it's wrong, but the smaller inconsistently uses that to his own personal and selfish pleasures occasionally.

"okay?" chan squints, a chortle slipping past chapped lips. he's fondling with the wire of his headphones, left hand unconsciously scratching and plucking at the customized sticker that he'd never peeled off of his laptop. minho thinks it's a lazy act, but he's void of any room to judge. "what does that have to do with me?"

"i choose you," minho gnaws at his lower lip in thought, watching as chan's face twists into something of undisguised confusion. "to do the dishes for me, i mean."

chan laughs almost wholeheartedly. "what? you're kidding, right?"

minho shakes his head.

"minho, no. i'm not doing your chores, i'm busy." and finally, chan pushes the earbud back in, both hands going back to occupy themselves with the laptop. "plus, i'm sure you haven't done the dishes in, what, a couple of months? stop bribing felix and do your own chores for once."

truth unveiled, minho was correct, felix had actually ratted him out. he mentally reminds himself to give one of the youngest a well deserved whack to his head.

"i'll pay you."

"no thanks."

a sneer echos, followed by a hushed word of profanity. the room falls silent again, save for the distant, muffled consistencies of whatever chan has blaring into his headphones. he's completely vacant of attentiveness towards anything else that minho has to say, only occasionally whirring him along in notice of his presence. his politeness is appreciated, but still, minho keeps his bottom planted exactly where it is.

suddenly, "i'll suck you off." for certain, his brain hadn't congregated the chance to grasp what he'd actually spoken, maneuvering along through himself like a will; expected to happen as long as minho blithely stayed situated in chan's presence.

"what?" chan's removing his earbud in a swift motion, an eyebrow quirked in possible misunderstanding. there's a strung pull of his lips evident, and minho takes sudden notice of the messiness to chan's recently dyed hair. there's no product apparent, just dry, loose strands and a face painted in skepticism.

shrugging, minho's mind begins to wonder how long he's been here bothering chan with his miniature problems. five minutes, possibly, he's not positive. either way, despite being a work leech, there's still poorly concealed string upturning his lips. "i'll suck your dick, you know, only if you do the dishes."

chan noticeably gulps, faintly shaking his head as he avoids eye contact. he isn't directing his attention upon minho this time around, just pressing against the volume button on his laptop. he's unreadable, only briefly chuckling before focusing back onto the subject itself.

"you're kidding, right? i'm not that gullible." the humor he finds within the request is defeating, rendering his friend bothered by his lack of belief.

there isn't much defiance against the fact that everyone in the dorms aren't too keen on the sex category. sex with one another, at least. minho guesses, it'll be an awkward situation wrapped in a new creation of a stiff friendship between whomever fulfills the tasks. of course they've kissed before — or, rather, minho locked lips with hyunjin and jisung once over after a drunken game of spin the bottle. it was a terrible idea, something they'd done while woojin and chan stayed out all night; it was quite literally the only way the game presumed the way that it had.

other than that, it was all. that's what minho would like to think, anyways. he only hopes that the obscene noises resonating through the walls separating his and changbin's room from hyunjin and jisung's were only the mere mention of one of them trying to get off alone.

still, he's not bashful when it comes to offering chan a bribed blowjob. in fact, he's beyond comfortable and completely unfazed by his unanticipated offer. minho knows that some parts of his personality are messy, and he knows that he could be a nasty person sometimes, but he doesn't necessarily care either.

"what makes you think that i'm joking?" he scoffs, laughs a little in between. chan is eyeing him heavily, clear evidence of wavering glint decorating his pupils. "i couldn't be more serious. take it or leave it."

"minho, get out of my room." chan giggles at him, no malice in his tone.

minho groans, shifting to his knees that brutally press into chan's bed. he shoves cold fingers into the pockets of his sweatshirt, awkwardly shuffling forwards to become a better advocate for chan's biggest distraction of the day. "no, seriously," he chuckles too, the inner side of his knee knocking against the sides of chan's laptop. "just this one time, please? come on, don't pretend like you've never gotten sucked off before."

frowning, chan's cheeks give off the faintest shade of pink, eyes rolling briefly before he's gently shoving minho away by the shoulder.

"i haven't and i'd rather not experience it." minho raises a brow at that. "but, that isn't going to get me to do your chores."

plopping back down on his bottom, minho sighs, eyes chan a second longer before his lips officially pull downwards. the eye contact is ferocious, lasting far too long for minho's current liking. as tough as he'd like to title himself, there's an inward debate erupting inside of him determining if he should pull the good old dog eyes on the leader. in the end, it deems fatal.

"fine, whatever." he blows out a puff of air, offering chan his greatest stink-eye before pulling up from the bed. "your loss."

he's grazing the knob of chan's door before he hears an awaited response.

"minho, i truly do hate you." his soft spot caves.

all minho can do is turn and grin, successfully getting his weekly chore off of his back.

"minho actually did the dishes last night, who's shocked?" woojin laughs into the air, smiling from where he's rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, struggling to locate the waffle maker.

"i am!" jisung chirps from his place at the table, unsuccessfully trying to broaden the stretchiness of his face as he stuffs his cheeks. his arm is held high in the air, throwing out omens of what a child would look like in school. it's a sight that has hyunjin staring too long, minho eyeing him a second too long as well before mock-chuckling.

whenever chan comes trudging into the kitchen, all eyes are on him. faultless stares though; greetings, subtle waves, and mellow offerings of breakfast. seungmin hands over a granola bar, whilst minho stares the older down, gentle grin finding its fleeting location on minho's lips.

scruffy sweatpants reckon a safe environment for his hands, slowly shuffling his way over to chan, the older kneeled down beside woojin, providing quick help for the foreseen dish. "hyung." one foot prods at chan's backside, a form of attention seeking — which, unsurprisingly, only proves conclusively irksome. "thanks, dude." he chews at his lower lip, lolling away without another word.

"found it!" woojin beams, knees unbending momentarily before pulling down again, pulling the lodged plug from the tangles happening inside of the cabinets. "what was that about, by the way? minho thanking you? what for?"

it's like chan's ears perk up at that, brows knitted and lips twisting in unbelievable confusion. the empty, dish deprived sink glares at him, mocking him and evoking forth the debarred activities that he'd pursued just the night before.

_minho's single finger stabs at the rusty zipper of chan's jeans, the rough, denim material of his pants biting at the exposed skin of minho's forearm. the room is quiet, excluding the occasional hums emitting from minho himself, finding raw amusement in the way chan keeps rigid underneath him._

_lenient, another finger hooks into the loop of chan's pants, jerkily tugging forwards to grasp every last increment of chan's attention. "so, you're a virgin?" the smirk covering his tone is distinct, overall outdoing the actual trepidation incased into his nerves. he's only slightly nervous, for chan is the last person he'd expect to be blowing off just to wriggle himself out of a painless chore. he's bordering the name of pathetic._

_"uh," chan laughs cautiously, expression tight. minho's eyes are burning into his every move, carefully studying what's next to come. minho isn't exactly sure that he's unerring when it comes to chan. "yeah? i guess, yeah."_

_the fact that chan is slightly juddering beneath him is fascinating – minho is adrift as to the reason why. he's sensitive to the touch, maybe. or, he's afraid, anxious, trembling with the confusion of what minho has in store. or, lastly, it's a virgin thing. minho likes the idea of the latter._

_"you guess? it's a yes or no question." the smaller snickers. his fingers are roaming, lightly scrapping at the tough fabric of chan's clothing. he's buying time, and he doesn't know why, but it's entertaining to witness the way chan grows frustrated bit by bit. "–hyung." he tacts on, the lack of honorifics not going unnoticed, even despite the situation they're closed into now._

_"jesus christ, minho, just hurry up. someone might come in." chan hurries out, rushed hands coming down to swat at minho's teasing gestures._

_minho laughs, probably for the hundredth time that evening. "don't want to ruin your image?" he teases, tongue coming out briskly to wet his lips, the set grown irritatingly dry throughout the few minutes that he's been crouched down._

_carefully, tauntingly, minho pulls down the zipper, keeping his eyes focused on the one man before him; his generous friend who he's going to give a blowjob to for such a lousy reason. he doesn't mind, more than willing to have any sort of filling in his mouth at this point in time._

_"don't worry," minho finally says when chan's soft cock is in his hand, warm fingers drawing a loose hold around him. chan's weary about it, he can tell, and he's putting in as much effort as opposed to crudely reassure his elder. "i'm not necessarily taking your actual virginity or anything. unless–" only a grin is given._

_"minho."_

_"sorry, hyung."_

_like minho had stated, in a more technical perspective, he's not stripping chan of his purity. he's just fortunate enough to be the first one who gets a taste._

chan scratches at his neck, a jumble of inconsistent chuckles falling from his lips. there's obnoxious chatter happening just behind where he and woojin's located, and chan swears that he feels minho's stare boring into his backside.

"he thanked me for looking over some lyrics that he's written." lying is a ghastly habit in chan's book. it makes him feel vile, like he's committed a crime almost. it especially nags when it's his friends that he's lying to.

woojin, spatula between tight lips, balancing atleast three different kitchen-wares in unsteady hands, only nods. "oh, okay. that's cool." he laughs. "minho is into writing?" he's taking noticeable engrossment into meek discussion with chan, which proves terminal.

"uh," chan tuts his lip briefly, pulling a banana from the bowl occupied on the island. false, minho hasn't written any lyrics at all, his substandard lying level dropping to an all time low. "yeah, he is. he's finally growing up."

"isn't he?" woojin agrees, expression intrigued. woojin's strong support and interest towards the other eight guys could be admirable. he's caring, forgiving, leading, and all the right an amazing older figure to have around. without much protest either, he takes the majority of the slack off of chan's back whenever the needed time rolls around.

he's a real charmer if anyone were to ever ask chan.

"so, what you're telling me is," jisung swallows around a mouthful of chips, shredded crumbs descending down onto the keyboard of his laptop – changbin's laptop, per say, which he had carefully taken from under the male's bed. there was no bombshell that jisung was destructive; he'd unconsciously came down on the closed screen of his laptop one day, permanently damaging and imprinting his screen in an ugly, black spot. "you've gave chan-hyung head in place of washing a couple of dishes?"

when it's put like that, it's degrading – offensive almost – like minho had done something forbidden. as expected though, for minho was the one with the big mouth; one big mouth runs to the other, which is why he lies where he is now, sheltered comfortably in jisung's personal space.

minho could only nod at that, because truthfully, there was no room for protesting. what he had done was fervent reality, going to happen, happening, happened. it's done, and so are minho's chores, it's rightfully a win for them both.

jisung grimaces, breath layered in the horrendous smell of sun chips. "that's actually disgusting." he's barely filtering his sentence, the gentle, yet harsh slap of his own pillow denounces him. how swift minho is, a triumphant smile pulling at the twines of his mouth.

"it's not," the older rolls his eyes, heart steady, cheeks pale. he's mildly drained from absolutely nothing, stomped over the edge of jisung's single bed, expression clear of any worries or concerns towards jisung's i'll-mannered opinion.

"it kinda is," jisung reprimands, an approximately of four chips pushing into his expectant mouth. "i mean, chan? like, seriously, of all people? i thought that he was into woojin or something." for a quiet moment, jisung actually slips into thought, eyes squinting, lips pursed conspicuously, dusting his fingers over his comforters. "-and how the hell did you get chan to let you blow him? what's your secret?"

an unpleasant beat, silence, hidden quail. stubby fingernails dig into the wood of the floor, selfsame body magnetized into pulling upwards. there it withholds, array for jisung's eyes; that all too familiar sneer screwed into minho's face like a grisly mantra. "magic." words coated in taunt, staunch ambience smothering the room as a whole.

"yeah, okay." the smaller snorts, expression rid of solemnity. "or maybe he just likes you."

someday, it happens again. it's only almost a week later when minho comes scooting into the crack in chan's bedroom door, eyes screaming deadly sin and face lightly pretzeled into filthy glee. he's holding himself like he's a specialist and high-god at this point, expression lacking anything connected to authenticity.

"what's up?" chan is the one who speaks first, higher blades of his shoulder and neck bone stabbed into the wooden headboard of his bed. his thin, overused book of lyrics sits clutched into one fist, pen settled busily in the other while he's jotting down haphazard nonsense; it's going to all be erased and revised later on, minho is sure of it.

when woojin's presence becomes noticeable, minho mentally goes slouch. his luck crumbles, burning brutally and dissipating into nothingness.

the oldest is perched onto his stomach, headphones lodged into his ears as his spent eyes stay cemented to the screen of his phone. he's certainly not concerned with anything going on around him, hell, he hadn't even greeted minho when he'd walked in. but, that still doesn't differ the fact that he's still more than likely in the room.

"hey." minho lets out a breath, lounging forwards and making himself comfortable on chan's bed. there's an unwashed sweatshirt that he's landed on, which gives way because of the decrepit smell that clings to it.

chan, face pulled into concentration, fills the page with another cram of lyrics and ideas that possibly won't ever be released to the public. "hello, something on your mind?" he's asking politely, obvious to minho himself, and it's a good thing.

minho is a grimly person. he can be selfish, egotistical, and indolent. he's cheap on care; one of bait words and meaningless wills, scheming games, and possibly edging rock-bottom with the heedless pneuma trapped within him. the actuality that he's like that is overbearing, at the least. it's a lot for a person, yet he thumbs it like a white-collar.

still, he certainly traces his best smile, body lenient against the fact that there's soon some work to be put in for himself. "the kitchen is a wreck, you know?" soft, whispered, brisk. his tone is enhancing, low in the air, not daring a lingering chance. the fatal possibility of woojin getting an ear of it is rousing, and minho wants it, but he knows that chan doesn't, which is why his voice doesn't break its low octave. somewhere, he's courteous.

a hum. "i'm sure it is." chan's softly giggling, head shaking in light shame. his pen now dangles from the soft clutch of his teeth, a single sheet of paper tearing from its place in the notebook. there's no evident indication for the reason intact for his low laughter, just the easy fact that he's oblivious of what's to come next. minho doesn't quite understand his current lack of obvious knowledge.

"which means," minho's soft hands find placement under his chin, resting there, studying chan's expression. he's smiling, but the older doesn't budge, eyes unyielding as yet again, another page gets tossed to the side. unknowingly, it makes minho frown – chan's ongoing struggle to get something done marking obvious.

chan's lower lip is hidden, both legs pulling up to generate a new place to situation his notebook. "are you in here to complain like hyunjin did yesterday? if so, woojin is right there." comes sarcastically, chan's thick eyebrows raising momentarily.

"no, but i am trying to bribe you into doing the dishes for me again." it comes quickly, blatantly, brutally honest. the chase is cut into, the bush dancing being chopped without care.

"i'm kind of busy right now." chan sighs. "plus, i'm not going to become your personal butler. i know your game, minho." the way chan says it takes some weight away, tone light and tolerant. that smile is back, rising slowly and delivering minho a soft tone. it's hard to believe that he's that unchallenging to bribe.

minho scoffs. "that's totally not the point." displeased would be an overstatement, honestly, because truly, he's all too teasing. he mirrors chan's expression, shifting on the bed to release the anger in his lower back. "maybe i just want my hyung to do me a solid."

"but, you just said–"

minho's chucking a pillow his way, and for a second, chan wonders how he'd been so quick.

"i'm not doing it unless, you know." chan breathes out, eyes widening determinedly, setting his notebook aside. the almost foreseen gesture of his head nearly goes unnoticed, beckoning towards woojin's presence encasing the other half of the room. minho likes the fact that he's so diffident about it.

"of course." comes minho's counter, shoulders upraising for extra emphasis to his nonchalance. "bathroom?" he then offers, already stepping off of the bed, eyes never leaving chan's.

whenever chan nods and follows minho out of the room, the younger can't help the victorious grin drawn into him so effortlessly.

they weave their way down the hall, chan's hand in minho's, the slightly shorter male displaying his best smile. chan is letting out short, inconsistent increments of nervous laughter, only slightly trailing behind minho's quick steps.

the last thing that they'd both want is to be caught – minho down on his knees sucking chan off; it's absolutely prohibited. although there's no managers or any forms of staff around, it's still a dangerous thing to be doing. minho knows, chan knows, but there's little intelligence expected of a pair of young adults.

it’s odious, the way chan’s hands sweat into minho’s, only showcasing an apologetic smile when he’s squintingly greeted by the youngers’ scandalized eyes. it’s a resilient gawp, embossed into the hefty and suffocating heat of the hall. all so unsound.

“fuck, who’s in the bathroom?” minho curses under his breath, the only bathroom accompanying the hall slammed shut, a creamy, yellow light peeking from the hems. it’s late in the evening, the only two lights decorating the long hall currently shut off – it leaves little room for any unblinded resources.

chan shrugs half-heartedly, and the contours of his shoulders moving are enough for minho’s standard vision. “there’s nine people living here.” a chuckle tumbles through his lips at the closing second, stealthy smearing the dishonoring evidence of his sweaty palms onto his sweatpants. it proves a discreet failure, for minho is monstrously cackling from the measly few steps before him.

“you have sweaty hands,” he comments like it wasn’t the most obvious thing, bringing his fist up to knock at the locked bathroom door for the second time. it’s a disappointment for them both, an piqued jeongin screaming from the other side. it’s an incoherent mess, muffled behind something along the lines of showering.

everyone had scattered to their rooms directly after dinner, notions that minho’s night for cleaning had rolled around again. his commercial acts of bribery towards the guys were becoming a common thing, someone always walking off with a couple of bucks in the end while minho laid back in his bed, content with the chores that he didn’t have to do once more.

more often than not, it was always changbin or felix, for they were the easiest two to pull in. naive, forgiving, and so, so easy to persuade. felix would swallow knives to please minho, not having the simple chance to give in because he’s so quick to say yes. minho thinks that he’s a sweetheart, but that’s all.

changbin was more of a challenge, he’d suggest an extra doubling of cash, two of minho’s pillows, and for minho to grow a pair and actually do his chores for once. it’d never end that way, though, for changbin would reluctantly give in with a whine after minho downs him on his lengthy proposals. minho thinks that changbin is an ass sometimes, but he’d be ignorant for his hypocritical beliefs.

one thing is for sure, chan was upcoming the special offer. there wasn’t any money involved, nor personal belongings or audacious comments – just chan, minho’s mouth, and a stupid promise to have the dishes done by sunrise. it worked out well.

“so,” chan breaks the silence, calloused fingers rubbing over the goosebumps nipping at the exposed skin of his arms. “what’s the plan? i mean, if this means that i don’t have to clean up anymore, then i’m totally fine with that. just, you know, there’s nowhere to privately do this.”

minho chortles, stepping closer to chan for needless emphasis. the bedrooms are occupied with a set of few members, which automatically excludes the bathrooms connected. a bummer, truly. “we can do it here.”

“pardon?”

“yeah,” minho nods, chan can hear the inadequate rattle of his several earrings clashing together. “right here in the hall.” his winning grin doesn’t illuminate the dark, but the feel of his hands traveling down the sides of chan’s body is there. he’s folding his legs, the dampened sound of his knees hitting the floor all too noticeable.

chan’s hands awkwardly position themselves at the texture of minho’s cheek, but it’s proven innocent when he speaks up. “that’s a bit unnecessary, don’t you think? the living room and kitchen are avail-“

“god damnit, hyung, let loose.” minho mumbles, a hint of jest absorbing his words. skillful fingers fondle with the two strings dangling from the olders’ sweatpants, buying enough time to throw taunts at chan. “it’s more fun this way, isn’t it? be adventurous.”

he’s so annoyingly playful, though it could never border bothersome. he’s always looking for a quick giggle, either from himself or someone else – but there isn’t any evident when he’s swiftly stripping chan of his lower clothing. he doesn’t let it pool at his feet, thankful for the fitting waistband of chan’s attire, only merely stopping at his mid-thigh.

minho feels around, jaunty fingers scratching, pinching, roaming until he finally gets a hook on the lining of his underwear. “i can hardly see.” he laughs to himself, piteous from using the poor strip of light shining from the bathroom just a few feet away from the crime scene.

chan’s laughing too, because maybe he agrees.

the tight material is pulling down, all under the will of minho’s fingers. he keeps them hooked there for a while, listening in on chan’s even breathing, skewing away from the touch closing in on his face. instantly, like a bell going off, chan retreats his hand. “sorry.” he mutters through a sigh, the light sound of his head hitting the wall behind him pulling the drums of both their ears.

“no, it’s fine, your hands are just-“

chan groans, “sweaty, i know.”

at that, minho chuckles, a hum of agreement filling the empty hallway. like slow time, he’s making aggravatingly leisured work at inching towards the subject surrounding this all. no pull, no push, just undemanding taps against bare thighs. before chan could speak up with multiple protest – because minho had felt it coming when he’d signed – he wraps a warm hand around chan’s semi-hard shaft.

he doesn’t have the ridiculed energy within himself to comment on why chan’s already growing, so he keeps quiet, just silently dwelling on the rough chime of his hand working against chan minute by minute. his ambidextrous tendencies make show, switching off occasionally at pumping chan to full hardness as best as possible – the dark ambushing his eyesight.

somewhere through it, chan’s hands study the profile of minho’s head, fingers hesitant to lock themselves within the parched strands of his hair. there’s no sign of objection radiating off of minho’s settled figure, yet chan couldn’t muster up the guts to do so.

soft, wet lips wrap around chan’s cock head, and if the lights were on, he’d see the way minho strains so hard to evaluate the male. minho’s knees ache from his position, and when he shifts, he could hear the way chan’s breath hitches as his mouth slides further. he’s not gagging yet, which deems a good sign for chan’s nerves.

one thumb and the associated index finger come to ring around his base, twisting and tightly jerking at what’s not fitting. his pace is quickening, but slowly. the dexterity behind his hands are vicious, his mouth loaning chan’s ears the subliminal sounds of his erotic sucking. chan feels so, so wet, and just the minimal thought of what minho looks like draws a grunt from him.

“you’re making a mess, aren’t you?” minho’s nose comes in contact with chan’s base, his forehead centimeters away from pressing into his abdomen. he pauses there for the time being, struggling around his size, which arouses chan. his words hadn’t meant to come off the way that they had, but they’re out, and minho’s clawing at the bare skin of the olders’ thighs.

finally, his cold hands come down, tangling and sharply pulling at the man before him. there’s an audible pop resonating, which indicates that minho’s mouth and his cock are separated.

“uh, are you alright?” he asks shakily, swallowing down the knot in his throat. not only is he breathing hard, but so is minho. now that it’s quiet, save for their uneven breaths, the light paddles of the water from the bathroom become apparent again. it’s a soft reminder of their location.

minho’s blunt nails press into chan’s thigh once more, but for different reasons. “hyung, i’m literally alright.” he hiccups, lightly coughing at the scratches in his throat. the sound of his voice so drastically changing so suddenly is beyond chan’s knowledge – all he can do is hope that minho doesn’t notice the pulsing in his legs. “that was called giving you decent head. get used to it.”

the tight grip in minho’s hair loosens, to the youngers’ dismay, of course. “oh–“ comes a chuckle, then an awkward smoothing to minho’s possibly frizzed hair. chan blinks at the light to the bathroom door, not capable of shaking the ache between his legs. “i thought that you were overdoing yourself or something.”

when minho gently presses back against the leaking head of chan’s cock, his shit-eating grin becomes all the more obvious. chan can feel it, can feel every nook and cranny of the male’s mouth against him, it disgusts him so beautifully. he’s enjoying himself, and it’s all thanks to his fellow, lousy bandmate.

minho’s working his mouth again, letting chan’s comment go awol, both hands looped around the back of chan’s thighs. he’s begging for more, teasing the dick in his mouth with the occasional graze of his throat. it’s when the smaller gags for the first time that the door to hyunjin, jisung and felix’s room swings open, the door just directly down the hall.

chan stiffens, frantic hands hurriedly feeling along the contours of minho’s face. it’s only suddenly coming to realization how much a single, dingy, orange bedroom light could irradiate the dark depths of the hallway. someone’s going to notice, and minho’s words from the week before rings throughout his ears.

regrets and frets suffocate him, and minho isn’t making any moves of letting up. he still works his mouth around chan, fingertips never loosening into his skin. the voices of jisung and felix edge closer, mumbles of incoherent nonsense filling the recently quiet air.

before he knows it, minho is shutting his legs forcefully, coming in to hopefully make himself small and unseen enough to hide. he’s still attached to chan’s cock like a greedy animal, and it’s fascinating how much he can take. the position is awkward and proven strongly uncomfortable for how restrained chan now feels in his private, and he could only hope that it’s believable.

“chan-hyung?” his pride and reputation crumbles right before his eyes at felix’s soft tone. he knows how obnoxious and outwardly odd he might look now, seemingly back-turned to the other, standing there with shut legs. he’s shocked at how small minho could fold, lenient hands pulling at minho’s strands.

he gulps, stomach churning as minho resumes, briefly pulling off of the taller to take him into one fist. precum stirred in with minho’s saliva creates noise, deeming chan seconds away from whacking his younger. “yeah?” the single word is broken, the leader clearing the anxiousness out of his throat, not daring facing the familiar voice asking for his presence.

felix comes closer, and jisung’s voice could be heard somewhere else — it’s a relief that he’d cleared the premises sooner than felix had.

“what are you doing?” he’s snickering, hopefully unbeknownst to what’s actually happening.

minho creates a faster pace, easily going back in. chan could feel his throat relax on the spot, teeth teasing along the veins aligning the design of chan’s cock. it’s so excruciatingly hard not to match minho’s movements, his untrained hips jerking pathetically into minho like a wet, measly hole he’d use for self pleasure.

instead, he only tightens his grip. “yongbok, go to bed, please.” minho hums appreciatively at the way chan’s voice breaks on the last syllable, and he’d like to ignore the growing tightness in his own pants.

“but, hyung–“

“yongbok!”

when felix doesn’t reply, probably glowering at the use of his real name, it’s soon enough for chan to quickly push against the back of the head in his hands, forcing minho down. the shorter jumps, choking on a filthy whimper as he finally, finally pushes against chan’s covered abdomen. his hands are back at work, clutching at the fabric of his pants.

“minho, shit, my heart is beating so fast.” chan admits after a chuckle. he’s loosening up, only inconsistently pushing against the wet hole he’s forced within. there’s a faint headache looming minho’s head from the pressure, but he’s always happy to please nonetheless. “i can’t breathe, we’ve almost gotten caught. did you see that?”

at this point, he’s spilling inaudible nonsense as minho works him to the edge, swallowing around another round of precum. chan feels the wetness surrounding minho’s face as his hands continue to roam, thumb coated in either tears, spit, or his own semen. either way, it has him stuttering over another breath, pushing forwards once more before he’s warning minho over hushed words.

“i’m close,” was minho’s cue to pull back, taking chan back into a tight fist. he’s tugging so brutally, lips gently pressing against the cold skin of chan’s legs. neither of them aren’t curious on why it’s inching intimate behavior, for chan is spilling into tight fingers only a second later.

it falls quiet again as chan’s legs buckle, minho’s knees cracking as he stands to his feet after twenty agitating minutes. he’s smiling down at chan, which is noticeable now with the open door down the hall. there’s a certain messiness to his hair, dark fringe falling over his wet lashes.

he kneels as he wipes the foul remains of chan’s release on the other’s sweatpants, watching as he doesn’t bother to break the silence. minho thinks he looks best after he’s finished with him.

“get those dishes cleaned, big guy.”

**Author's Note:**

> breathes. yes i did that idky, don’t ask. 
> 
> firstly, i just want to say how much i enjoyed this plot, like?? i’ve also never written for this ship, so i truly apologize if it’s totally not up to par. but still, i love minchan so so so much. 
> 
> idk if you’ve noticed, but i made chan a virgin bc like, it’s more fun that way, let’s be honest. 
> 
> this fic isn’t too long, but for me, it honestly was. i hardly ever experience with “lengthy” plots/fic things, so this was new. i’m that one author who just randomly drops 1k - 2k word vomits so BARE with me ty. (this isn’t proofread sorry loves!) 
> 
> i’m an audience reader so tell me what you think? anything is appreciated.


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